


Walking After Midnight

by youmaybethechancellor



Category: La Reina del Sur (TV), Queen of the South, Queen of the South (TV), Queen of the South (USA Network), Queen of the South - USA, The Queen of the South
Genre: F/M, James/Kim breakup mention, POV James Valdez, Set in Season 1, Stargazing, a lot of touching, midnight diner trip, possibly canon compliant, sharing a cigarette, soft Jeresa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmaybethechancellor/pseuds/youmaybethechancellor
Summary: Three times Teresa needs a moment away from it all, and three times James indulges her.





	1. On the House

**Author's Note:**

> “so i stole a car and you were asleep in it, still, oops” AU prompt by [dailyau](http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/173547930565/so-i-stole-a-car-and-you-were-asleep-in-it)

It was not unheard of for James to sleep in the backseat of his Escalade. He could fall asleep anywhere. He’d learned to value sleep during his time overseas, that hadn’t changed when he came home. Since joining Camila, he had become a light sleeper, which was admittedly unfortunate for his sleep schedule, but it kept him alive. 

So when James is napping in the back of his SUV under the blanket he keeps in the trunk, he naturally wakes when the car startles to life. 

James freezes. Is he really being kidnapped in his own car? From Camila Vargas’ warehouse? Without any sort of restraints? He dismisses this idea as ridiculous. No one is that brave. They must not know he’s back here, which still brings up the question: Who is bold enough to steal his Caddy? 

James moves slowly so he doesn’t make any noise or attract the attention of the driver. He’s almost in a full sitting position when he recognizes the driver. Of course. _Teresa._

He decides to wait until she’s at a stoplight before speaking. Safety first. He is, after all, not wearing a seat belt, and he’s not sure how Teresa will react to being snuck up on like this. _She snuck up on me_ , he mentally amends. _She did steal his car, after all._

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Teresa jumps at the sound of his voice, shoulders tensing and knuckles whitening as she grips the wheel. James moves so that they can make eye contact in the rearview mirror. Her body releases some tension when she realizes it’s him. “How long have you been back there?”

“Since before you stole my car, which brings us back to _what the fuck are you doing?”_

“I needed some air.” She sounds tired.

“What was wrong with your car?” It seems illogical for him to be so upset over this. After all, Camila’s cars were often open to be driven by everyone. But this one was a gift to James. It was his, and he didn’t appreciate it being taken out on a midnight joyride.

She turns around in her seat to face him. “I know it’s just - I needed to leave and I didn’t want anyone to know. They check the odometer every day and-” She is interrupted by a honk. The light has turned green, but Teresa doesn’t move, waiting for James’ permission. She doesn’t do that often.

James sighs. “Where to?”

The car behind them lets out a continuous honk as he climbs into the passenger seat. He can’t remember the last time he sat here. He’s just buckled in when Teresa puts her foot on the gas, the light already yellow. 

Teresa rolls down her window to let in the cool night air. She’s making a point of not looking at him, but it’s not aggressive -- she just doesn’t want to talk right now. He’s watching her from the corner of his eye. He notes that she’s been driving very carefully, but has the feeling that she wouldn’t be if she was driving one of the piece of shit cars they steal for the mules. He smiles a bit at that, thinking of how he crashed the car on their first delivery together. They could always find another shitty car to steal, but it wouldn’t be very much fun to explain to Camila why her $100k Cadillac Escalade was totaled.

He turns his head to face her. He’s openly staring at her now, but she continues to face forward, focused on driving. The wind is playing with her hair, and James wishes that he could reach out and do the same. There are bags under her eyes and her clothing is crumpled, but she’s beautiful. 

Teresa parks and cuts the engine, finally glancing over at him. She gets out wordlessly, leaving it up to him whether or not to follow. 

He pushes his door open and follows her. Teresa has taken them to a 24-hour diner. The interior is brighter than he prefers, and his fingers go to his shirt to collect his glasses, remembering too late that he left them in the car, along with his gun. Not his best move, though he doesn’t think he’ll have to be fending off the Jimenez Cartel at 1am in the middle of this shitty diner. 

Teresa slides into a booth so that she’s facing the entrance. He sits across from her, feeling doubly exposed with his back to any potentially approaching enemies and without the protection of his sunglasses. James has never been above being the asshole that wears sunglasses inside. But he trusts her enough to warn him if anything happens in his blind spot. They’ve always been good at saving each other’s asses.

A waitress comes by to take their order. Teresa asks for coffee, black and he goes for tea. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for Teresa to speak first. She lifts her gaze from the keys -- his keys -- she’s fiddling with on the table to meet his eyes. His fingers clench under the table. He wishes he had gone to get his sunglasses. Whatever it is she sees in his eyes, it prompts her to speak. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I just - I needed to get out of there.” 

He motions with his chin. “How did you get my keys?”

“Sunglasses compartment. You don’t keep the car locked.”

“No one else is dumb enough to steal from me.” The slightest lift of his mouth.

She glances back down. “I didn’t think I’d be caught,” she admits as she slides the keys the short distance across the table.

He covers her hand with his own, causing her to lift her head back up. She’s expecting a reprimand, but instead he says, “What do you need from me?” 

Teresa recognizes it as the offering it is. “Can we stay here for a while?” 

He waits for more, but she doesn’t continue. He slides the keys into his palm and places them in his pocket. 

Teresa likes the diner for the reason that James doesn’t; it’s bright. The fact that there are no rats here and that she doesn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder are just welcome bonuses. They’re the only customers there at this time of night. Teresa leans back into the booth and closes her eyes, listening to the quiet clacking of plates bumping into things and the soft steps of their waitress. 

“Thought you could use a little pick-me-up, dear,” the waitress says as as she sets down a slice of pie next to their drinks. Teresa looks like she’s about to protest, so the woman continues, “On the house.” She gives a smile and walks away before Teresa can manage a “thank you.”

James dumps three creamers and four packets of sugar into his tea and stirs it, covering the mug with the saucer to steep. He returns his eyes to Teresa’s face. Her nose is wrinkled in mild disgust. 

“What?” 

“Do you really need so much sugar?” She takes a small sip from her black coffee pointedly, burning her tongue.

“The cigarettes make it hard to taste anything,” he shrugs. 

“Maybe you should cut back on the chain-smoking.” 

His mouth twists at that. He probably should. “Stop causing me so much stress and I’ll think about it.”

“Cigarettes don’t actually relieve stress,” she points out, but the corners of her mouth are pulled up.

“Doesn’t hurt.”

“They do, actually.” Teresa’s brows are raised in challenge and she’s wearing a soft, close-lipped smile. 

His eyes drop to her mouth. James has never seen Teresa smile before. In fact, he’s never seen her look so peaceful. It’s a big change from how she looked in the car. He realizes that he’s staring and clears his throat. He slides the pie to the middle of the table and steals a bite. It’s apple, which is arguably the best kind of pie. 

“Hey,” she protests half-heartedly. 

“Not bad,” he nods, pushing the plate back toward her. 

She shakes her head, a smile playing around her lips. She isn’t a big fan of pie, but this diner makes the best she’s ever had, which isn’t saying much. Pie isn’t very popular in Sinaloa. Teresa pushes the plate back to the middle so they can share it.

The pair finish their drinks and the pie in comfortable silence. Teresa looks a lot better now, refreshed. 

James drops a twenty on the table. “You ready?”

She releases a tired sigh and nods. She feels warm, and blames it on the coffee, but she can’t deny that James might have something to do with it. He’s a man of few words. Blunt. But he knows what to say and when to say it. She really appreciated his company, and that he let her stay until she was ready to go. She exits the booth first, thanking the waitress -- Jane -- on her way out. 

James follows a step behind, sending a nod in Jane’s direction. He pulls the keys from his pocket and unlocks the Escalade, going to the passenger side to open Teresa’s door for her. She gives him a small smile in thanks as she climbs in. He shuts the door and goes to the driver’s side. 

Teresa, who was half a foot shorter than him, had adjusted his seat so that she could drive, and he takes a second to return it to its usual position. Teresa is staring at him, and he returns her look, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. _What is it?_

She gives a small shake of her head. _Nothing._

The smallest of nods back. He reverses the car and takes them back to the warehouse the long way.


	2. help me smoke this one more cigarette now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i come here when i want to be alone and i didn’t think anyone knew about it so where the hell did you come from AU prompt by [dailyau](http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/168645242844/i-come-here-when-i-want-to-be-alone-and-i-didnt)
> 
> \+ sharing a cigarette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um hey let’s pretend that the warehouse roof is flat! This takes place the night before 1x08 // ep: billete de magia

He liked to sit on the roof and smoke. The stairs to the rooftop were rusted and every step gave him the feeling that he was going to fall through, but he liked the way the staircase shook as he moved and the way the metal trembled beneath him. It was silly and not at all a good choice, but mounting those stairs was a welcome relief from the chaos and filth of the warehouse floor. 

James was watching the sun set over Dallas, the sky full of lovely shades of pink and orange. He was just about to light up his second cigarette when the door began to creak open.

He was on his feet in an instant, hand pulling the gun from his side and spinning around to face the intruder. James had just cocked his weapon when--

“James.” Teresa hadn’t bothered putting her hands up. She just stood there with her hand still on the door handle, waiting for him. 

His body lost its tension as he lowered his gun, trying very hard not to look embarrassed at how he had reacted. The warehouse was relatively safe. He shouldn’t be so jumpy. 

He cleared his throat lightly as he returned his gun to its holster. “You shouldn’t be up here,” he said, though not unkindly.

She took this as permission to join him. 

James resumed his place on the bench he had dragged up there, leaving room for Teresa. He covered the cigarette with his hand as he lit up, blowing out a puff of smoke as she sat down next to him. 

“Those things will kill you.” 

With all the shit they went through every day, he doubted that he’d live long enough to die from smoking. James had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he turned his head to look at her. “What are you doing up here?” 

“I couldn’t sleep. It’s too loud down there.”

His forehead creased. No one was supposed to be working right now.

Noticing his confusion, she added, “The rats.”

“Oh,” he exhaled, flicking the ash away. He knew they had a rat problem, but it wasn’t really high on his priority list. Part of life in a shitty abandoned warehouse. He figured that it was someone else’s job to deal with them. “I’ll have someone take care of that.” 

Teresa nodded in response as she reached out and plucked the cigarette from his fingers, bringing it to her lips and inhaling slowly. 

He watched her movements openly. No one else would be so bold as to take his cigarettes, but Teresa wasn’t really ‘someone else’ anymore. And if he thought about it, it had always been that way. His relationship with Teresa was different than that of the other mules, and not just because Camila was interested in her. 

There was something about Teresa that made it impossible for him to keep his eyes off of her. It wasn’t just that she was pretty, it was something about the intensity of her stare and the way she stood -- back straight, hands a second away from fists, always ready to run or fight her way out. She was a survivor. It was written all over her. 

But… Teresa wasn’t just a survivor. She had told him to let Lucian go even after he had stolen from them; it was the wrong choice, but still. She had saved Sandra from her shithole boyfriend and played with her kid. Teresa had wasted precious seconds to try to free the man in Eric’s bedroom, and she had fought him to try to distract Eric so that he wouldn’t kill the man. After the deal went bad, he had told her to run and she still came back for him; he wouldn’t forget that. _Teresa had used the time she could see to get him out of the cave. _She got medicine for Maya when she was sick, even though none of the mules were welcoming to her. Teresa had been kind through it all. There was a special kind of strength in that.__

__“I thought you didn’t smoke.”_ _

__“I do today.” She exhaled again and passed him back his cigarette._ _

__He took a drag, turning back to the setting sun. He tilted his head back to take in the sky. Amazing how something so beautiful could exist in a world he had made so ugly. He passed the cigarette back over to her without looking. She took it and copied his movements, brushing his arm as he lifted her fingers to her mouth._ _

__He shouldn’t be this comfortable with her. She shouldn’t be up there with him at all, really. It crossed a line he had drawn early on: keep the girls at arms’ length, know their weaknesses and motivations, but never get close enough for them to get dependent. He didn’t think Teresa was dependent on him -- he didn’t think Teresa was dependent on anyone -- but that didn’t make this any less wrong. He should take a step back from… whatever _this_ was, but it was hard when she kept stepping forward right along with him. _ _

__Teresa turned her head to look at him. “You okay?”_ _

__His lips twitched. He should be asking her that, especially after the day they’d had. Their run hadn’t been easy, not that they ever were. He gave a small shake of his head, taking the offered cig. “You’re not doing yourself any favors.” A soft exhale. “Being here.” He left it to her to interpret what he meant by ‘here,’ handing her the last of the cigarette._ _

__“You’re better company than the rats,” she smiled around the cig, finishing it off and putting it out on the concrete._ _

__He offered her the carton and she took one and placed it between her lips expectantly. If he pressed his arm closer as he leaned in to light her cigarette, she didn’t say anything about it._ _

__The sun had disappeared over the horizon and it was much colder than it was when he first came up there, even with his jacket. Teresa, armed against the cold with only her thin shirt, must have been freezing._ _

__“It’s getting cold. Should we go inside?”_ _

__Teresa didn’t miss the fact that he said “Should _we_ go inside” rather than telling her that she should go inside. They would go together. _ _

__She shook her head no, but he could see her begin to shiver. He paused before shrugging off his jacket, dropping it in her lap. He was trying to come off as annoyed but he was a poor actor._ _

__Teresa was stunned. She slowly handed him the cigarette and leaned forward to slip the jacket over her shoulders, pressing closer to his side to offer him some of her warmth. It smelled like him. She pulled it closed over her small frame and shuffled so that she was sitting lower on the bench, finding a more comfortable position._ _

__“Thank you.” It comes out so softly it’s more of a whisper._ _

__“Yeah.” He could give her this._ _

__They lapsed into comfortable silence, with James chain-smoking and Teresa warm inside his jacket. She pressed closer to him as she moved toward sleep, finally slipping into unconsciousness with her head resting against his shoulder._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from Otis Redding's Cigarettes & Coffee.
> 
>  
> 
> I'ma keep it real with you, chief,,, I'm a sucker for comments/kudos


	3. people with guns to their head, they can not mourn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finds Teresa at Ronaldo's shrine, and neither of them are quite ready to go home yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bench/hill in the middle of the park as the sun starts to come up  
> *Immediately after 2x01 shrine scene  
> *Quote; People with guns to their head, they can not mourn (Doctor Who, 8x08)  
> *Quote; He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand (Richard Siken, Anyway)

_Find out what she’s hiding._

James knew that Teresa was hiding a lot, though he didn’t think that there was anything that Camila really needed to know. 

But, Camila was his boss, and he had always been loyal to her, so brushed away the thought that he was betraying Teresa as he followed the tracking signal on her car to a dark Houston street.

He parked behind her car and got out quietly. She was standing in front of a shrine for Ronaldo Rios, the man that they had kidnapped for King George.

Teresa had been hesitant to hand him over. James guessed that his born-again ex-con shit must have been pretty convincing. Teresa wasn’t the type to take bullshit at face value. 

She stooped to place a bouquet of flowers at the base of the shrine. 

He stopped a few steps away, giving her some space. James couldn’t find it in himself to chide her for grieving for a man she didn’t know. 

She didn’t seem surprised to see him there and didn’t bother to ask if he was following her. Maybe it was expected by now, that he would always find her. She stared at the shrine a beat longer before speaking. 

“Everything in life has a price. Brenda was my best friend.” Teresa’s voice broke as she said, “She’s never coming back. It _hurts so much_.”

She covered her eyes with her hands so that he couldn’t see her cry. 

He took two steps forward and extended a hand to rub her back, comforting her. He didn’t know what to say. He had always been a man of action, not words, and “sorry” wouldn’t cut it here.

Teresa lifted her face from her hands to look at him. She hadn’t been expecting _that._ She stopped crying for a second to look into his eyes. Whatever she found there, it was enough for her to feel safe to resume her crying. 

When she buried her face in her hands for the second time, James wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into his chest. He felt awkward at first, and her body tensed at his touch, but she quickly melted into him, stepping into his space so that they were pressed close. Teresa shifted so that her hands were holding onto his jacket and her face was pressed against him. 

James held her as she cried, rubbing her back soothingly. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t think he had to. She needed time to mourn and nothing he could say would ever fix the hole Brenda’s death would leave in her life. 

 

Teresa’s sobs quieted until they were mere sniffles. She didn’t pull away yet, so James continued to rub her back. They stood like that in front of the shrine for a while longer, just holding onto each other. 

Teresa was the first to pull away, sniffing once more as she took a step back and wiped at her face with her hand. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and seemed to be looking for something to say. 

James didn’t want a “thank you” from her, and he didn’t think she was ready to go back to the safe house. He tilted his head to the left and said softly, “Come on.”

She looked up at his words, a question in her eyes. He tugged lightly on her hand once as he passed by. 

Much to her own relief, he began walking away from where they had parked their cars. She had to hurry a few steps to catch up with him. 

Teresa was keeping pace with him, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that it felt strange because they never walked side by side. One was always a step in front or behind the other. 

Teresa wiped away a late tear and gave a small sniff. 

He hesitated, licking his lips once, before deciding that Teresa preferred physical comfort and _what the hell_ they were almost there anyway. He placed a light hand on the small of her back to guide her to the Starbucks down the road. 

Teresa flicked her eyes up to his face, surprised. He gave her a weak, close-lipped smile before quickly looking away. 

He broke contact with her to hold open the door, allowing her to enter first. It was too bright inside and he had to blink a few times to adjust. 

 

“The Starbucks in Culiacán are never open this late,” she commented as she looked over the menu. 

The barista was a young woman in her early twenties with dyed gray hair and a name tag that read Sabrina. She smiled politely at the two of them as she waited behind the register. It took her a second to notice Teresa’s pink cheeks and tear marks, but once she had, she turned her eyes to James. She seemed upset with him, as though it was his fault that she had been crying. It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to explain that to some nosy barista. 

He ordered his coffee black and Teresa asked for some sort of “comfort” tea. He paid with a twenty and told her to keep the change before following Teresa to a table in the corner. James didn’t miss the concerned look the woman sent Teresa’s way, nor how her hand drifted to her pocket, as though to check that something was still there. He didn’t see any weapon-shaped bulges, so he chose to ignore it.

They sat across from each other at the high, circular black table. Teresa didn’t say anything, she was just looking at him. He studied her expression, tilting his head; She seemed... unsure. Their silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though prolonged. 

They were the only ones there, which only made the sounds of the barista making their drinks seem louder in the cafe, echoing off the walls. He thought it was strange that this location was open all the time when it didn’t seem to get much business at this time of night. 

After a few minutes of banging around in the kitchen, the woman began to walk around the counter to give them their drinks. 

He got up to get sugar from the counter. When he turned around to walk back to their table, he saw the barista -- Sabrina -- slipping Teresa what looked like a business card. 

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward it with his chin as he approached. 

Sabrina looked like a deer caught in headlights. “N-nothing.” She smiled a bit too brightly at him before moving to go back to her counter.

James wasn’t convinced. He looked over at Teresa, raising a brow.

Teresa held up a white business card. “It’s to a women’s shelter. She thinks I’m in danger.” 

“Aren’t you?” While no one was hitting her, she wasn’t exactly safe. 

She tensed her jaw. “I made my choice.”

He nodded. He knew it wasn’t a choice at all, but they could both pretend it was. _The only way out is up._ James took the card from her hand and brought it to the counter. “Sabrina.”

She jumped at her name. “Yeah?”

He leaned forward across the counter as he held up the card and said, “Look, I appreciate you trying to protect her, but if you’re going to do this, you have to be more careful. If you gave this to someone that actually needed help the same way you just gave it to Teresa, you could get them killed. Do you understand?” 

“I--,” she swallowed and looked over at Teresa, who got out of her chair and joined them at the register. 

Teresa placed a hand on James’ back. _I got this_

He leaned back slowly and took a small step out of her way, folding his arms. Teresa slipped into the space he had just been occupying and pushed some hair behind her ear.

“Where I’m from, people die for less than this. You have to be careful.” Her voice was just shy of stern. Teresa searched Sabrina’s eyes, hoping that she understood the gravity of what she could have just done. “Is this the first time you’ve done this?” 

“Yeah, you’re the first.” Sabrina looked like she regretted the whole thing. 

“Good. That means you can learn how to do it right.” 

 

Teresa and James spent the next hour teaching Sabrina more discreet ways to intervene and giving her tips on how to spot potential victims. Neither of them were in the business of saving battered women, but they had seen enough of them to identify the traits. Sabrina wasn’t a very good liar, much to their annoyance. The two of them were liars by nature; they had to be to survive. 

_“Sorry about earlier,” Sabrina began. “It’s just- you have this kind of… bad boy presence? I don’t know how to describe it.”_  
James thought that the company could do with another workshop on racial profiling. His mouth softened into a hint of a smile. “If I’m a criminal, so is she,” he gestured with a tilt of his head.  
Teresa dropped her face to the table to hide her smile. He did his best to hide his smirk. 

James wouldn’t have taken the time to do this if Teresa wasn’t here -- he’d have just told Sabrina not to do it again -- but it seemed to cheer her up. He’d had to stop her from helping so many people, and he knew she was happy to get the chance to help someone, even indirectly. 

 

Teresa sidled up next to James, carrying refills of their orders. She extended his cup toward him and he took it readily. “Are you ready to go?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee, though it was still too hot and burned his tongue. She had put two packets of sugar in it, the way he preferred. He couldn’t help his small smile. _She had noticed._

Teresa picked her keys up from the table and moved past him toward the door.

“Teresa,” Sabrina stepped in front of Teresa, making her pause, though he kept walking. She stage whispered, “If you and your boyfriend ever break up, you’ll send him my way, yeah?” 

“James isn’t my boyfriend.” 

“So he’s single?” Sabrina had, after learning that James wasn’t a perpetrator of domestic violence, apparently found her confidence sometime in the last hour, and turned to look at him with a slow, coy smile. 

“N-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “But you’re not really my type.”

Was he crazy, or did Teresa seem a little more than surprised? 

“What’s your type?” She tilted her head to the side in what she probably thought was a flirtatious gesture. “I’m flexible.”

 _Redheads,_ he wanted to say, but then he looked at Teresa and he wasn’t so sure anymore. He turned a scoff into a smirk saying, “Let’s go, Teresa,” as backed into the door and pushed it open. 

Sabrina seemed a little bit put out, but he thought that she’d get over quickly. Not that he cared.

Teresa and James began the short trip to their cars in comfortable silence, each clutching their paper cups. As they walked past the shrine, James noticed Teresa’s shoulders slump and her expression tighten. 

She stopped in front of her car, and before she could get a word out, he asked, “Do you want to go to the park?”

Teresa wasn’t expecting that. She paused, searching his eyes, before giving a small smile and agreeing. 

 

It was past two in the morning but there they were, sitting on park swings with their hands curled around their warm cups of caffeine, looking up at the stars. He wasn’t familiar with Houston’s weather, but he was glad that the cloud coverage wasn’t too bad. 

Teresa broke the silence. “My dad used to wake me up so we could look at the stars together.” 

James turned to look at her, making the swing creak as he shifted. He knew that her family was murdered by narcos when she was young, and she didn’t talk about them. 

“Ahí esta Osa Mayor y Osa Menor,” she said in Spanish, imitating her father. She was pointing at the constellations, but he was looking at her hand. 

“Y Hércules debajo del Dragón.”

James’ face softened at the idea of a young Teresa sitting on her father’s lap and memorizing the night sky. It had been a long time since she had been allowed to be young and innocent. 

“A lado del Dragón es el Corona Boreal. The northern crown.” She smiled fondly as she reflected. “Esa corona es tuya, mija. Cuando seas mayor, serás la reina del norte.”

“I used to remind him that Culiacán was in the middle of Sinaloa, not the north, but he always insisted.” Teresa took her hand off the swing chain to wrap it around her cup, seeking its warmth. 

Her smile dimmed. “He’s gone now, too,” she added quietly. 

James opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she continued, “I didn’t go to the funeral,” she admitted. “I didn’t ever go back to that church. I couldn’t be in that room again-”

He shook his head. _How could someone so little could hold so much pain?_ “People with guns to their heads don’t have time to mourn.” he interrupted, though not unkindly. “I’m sorry, Teresa.” 

“Don’t apologize. You’re not holding a gun to my head,” she pointed out.

“Not today.” He swiveled the swing and planted his feet so that he was facing her. “But that could change.” _Don’t you understand? I’m dangerous._

She mirrored his actions so that both of their swings were twisted sideways, their knees almost touching. 

She searched his eyes, whispering, “Promise me you won’t be the one to do it.” 

“Teresa…” James pressed his lips together. “You know I can’t do that.” He wasn’t in control of his life anymore. 

“When Camila decides to kill me, let someone else pull the trigger,” she insisted.

 _“Why?”_

“Because I don’t want it to be you. Because I don’t want to have to hurt you.” Her words hung in the air. 

He held her gaze. “I don’t want to kill you, Teresa,” he said finally. A microscopic smile. “We’re in this together, remember?”

She nodded, satisfied, though he hadn’t made the promise she was searching for. They had been since the beginning, when Teresa refused to throw up those drugs and insisted on finishing the job. Their fates had been tied together that day. 

_Fate,_ he scoffed at himself. He had never been one to believe in fate.

He set his now-empty coffee cup on the floor. His fingers drifted to his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, putting one in his mouth before offering the carton to Teresa. She took one and waited for him to light it for her, inhaling as he lit his own. 

They twisted back to the proper swing positions, lightly pushing themselves back and forth with their legs braced against the ground. It felt like high school. 

 

“What happened with Kim?” Teresa asked evenly halfway through her cigarette.

“What?” He was sure that he had misheard her.

“You said that you had just gotten out of a relationship. What happened?” 

James considered not answering. He would never have talked about this with the other guys that worked for Camila, but then again he never would have been out here with the Charger or Tonto when he could be sleeping. 

“She wanted me to marry her.” He scoffed lightly at the memory. “I told her I was already married to my job.” He dropped his head. “She didn’t take it well.”

Truthfully, it had been over between them for a long time. Kim had started looking for attention in other places -- other men. She wanted someone to come home to. A ring. Two and a half kids and a big house in the suburbs. She wanted pool parties and parent teacher conferences and a front porch swing to grow old together on. Things he couldn’t give her right now, or maybe ever. His job kept his hands full, binding him to Camila and to the cartel. He had witnessed first-hand how cartel life could destroy a marriage, and he didn’t want to do that to her.

Kim had been what he needed once. A warm body. Someone to come home to on the days that he could come home. A beacon of light. Someone to wake him from his nightmares. But he hadn’t been coming home anymore and the war he had nightmares about was a lot closer to home.

Now she was a responsibility. Someone to save. He had always had to protect her, but now it just felt like he was protecting _her_ and not _them._ There was nothing left to protect, anyway. She had cheated on him, and it hurt more than he would ever admit. He couldn’t have fun with her or touch her anymore without thinking about what she would be doing later with the oil guy. 

“I know how that feels. I was a kept woman once.”

The thought of Teresa staying home and keeping out of trouble was so different from the person he had come to know that it was almost laughable.

“And now you’ve seen the other side of it.” He put out his cigarette. “People like us, we don’t--,” He sighed, lost for words. “Love is weakness,” he finished. 

Teresa shook her head. “Love is strength,” she corrected. “It puts you back together.”

He thought about all those nights Kim had woken him from his nightmares and made him tea or pulled him off the couch to go dancing when he was in a mood. James couldn’t deny that there had been a time when she had put him back together, piece by piece. He had needed her back then, but they had both since outgrown each other. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he conceded.

 

The sky had lightened so much that they couldn’t pretend to stargaze any longer. James was the first to stand, his muscles stretching beneath his leather jacket. Teresa joined him and together they made the short walk back to their cars, pausing only to dispose of their cups in a trash bin. They may be _narcos,_ but they weren’t big on littering.

 

Teresa unlocked her car with a click of a button, and James pulled it open for her, as he always did. 

She turned to look at him before getting inside. _Thank you,_ her eyes seemed to say. 

James squeezed her shoulder before walking back to his own car. _Any time,_ he thought, and he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this the day of the season 3 premiere! I'm not really satisfied with it but I'm tired of looking at it lmao  
> forgive me for any grammar/spelling mistakes I really,, could not look at this anymore
> 
> Comments & kudos are always appreciated!!

**Author's Note:**

> I'ma keep it real with you, chief,,, I'm a sucker for comments/kudos


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